Dumbed Down Omen

Cheers!

Thursday night I had a dream I was laying in bed, just as I was. I was looking at myself from a foot above. I was sleeping on my back, which I rarely do, and a man was standing next to the bed. He put his dick in my open hand, and I was rubbing it, while laying there asleep, for the most part.
When I woke up, the room was just as it looked in my dream. The bedside table lamp was on because I fell asleep reading, and Kiki was laying next to me. But the man standing by the bed with his dick in the palm of my hand was missing.
I was reading The Alchemist when I fell asleep. I read it fifteen years ago, but I didn't remember it being a revelation, so I figured I'd read it again. Before I cracked open my book, I read to Kiki, we're reading The Little Prince. I'm just about overdosing on transparent metaphors for living the best life. The Little Prince is a children's book, although the lessons thus far, are meant for an adult, nostalgic for her childhood.
The Alchemist, so far, has been about reading the omens. I killed a moth in the kitchen yesterday, and immediately regretted it. I have seen this moth around the house for a couple days, and figured there must be an omen, although I couldn't figure out what. I killed it by reaction, It startled me when I opened the medicine cabinet. When he came to rest on the open door, I picked up a pack of baby wipes and swatted it. The death scene looked like a smear of powdery cigarette ash.
If the moth, it's powdery residue, and a sleeping hand job are omens, I haven't the faintest idea what they mean. I need another omen, a dumbed-down omen.

Play Doh Sculpture. I call it, "The hard question: what does it all mean?"